Kuroshitsuji Finale Rewrite
by fangirl05
Summary: Alternate ending wherein Sebastian does not get shafted.


**A/N**: Yes, I, like many others, have rewritten the ending of Kuroshitsuji. Why? Because for those of us who care enough about Sebastian, it had to be done. So I did.

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><p><strong>xxx<strong>

**Warning: Contains OOC - ness**

**xxx**

"Even if he recovers his body, Ciel Phantomhive will be no more than a corpse to you."

What? What does that mean?

The ground cracks under her feet, and Hannah plunges toward the water with my young master.

"Ciel Phantomhive will become a demon."

Oh no.

No! I've worked too hard for this! I don't want to lose my young master again, and certainly not because of that damnable brat Alois Trancy.

Somehow I hear them hit the water, and my body finally gets the message that I'm wasting time up here. I spring off of the cliffside and swim after them. Hannah is gone, and has left my young master to drown, but I really couldn't care less about where she might be now.

_"_C_iel Phantomhive will be no more than a corpse to you."_

She really thinks that I only see my young master as a meal? She doesn't know what she's talking about. As pathetic as it sounds, Ciel Phantomhive is probably the only reason I'm alive right now.

The whirlpool generated by the collapsing island whips my young master in a hundred different directions. Even _I_ have a hard time keeping myself straight against the current. So many times I get so close that I can almost grab him, and always he is snatched away. How much does _that_ remind me of my life as of late?

I think my mind is starting to prepare for the worst. I'm already expecting to find a demon in my young master's body. I start to reminisce about the first few days as "Sebastian Michaelis." I'd thought I'd sunk so low, serving as a butler to a human child. I remember how he tossed that dessert in my face and went on about how it didn't taste good, or taste enough, or whatever it was exactly that he said. I still don't really understand his little lecture about the taste of something. What does human food matter to a demon?

That's right. I'm a demon. There's no way I could understand a human's sense of taste. All I understand is the taste of a human soul.

Finally I have caught my young master. He looks so peaceful. I wonder if he has become a demon.

Well, there's only one way I can think of to find out. Young master, if you're still there, forgive me.

I drive my hand through his torso, just below his ribs. His back arches as blood rises in ribbons from his lips and chest, and his eyes snap open.

His blue, human eyes.

Whoops.

I swim back to the surface as quickly as is safe, although I don't really know why. I don't need the oxygen, and my young master has long since lost enough blood to kill him. I throw his body into the gondola and climb in after him. I've never had much of a taste for looking into the eyes of a dead man, so I lower his eyelids. My hand stays attached to his cheek and rubs it for a moment. Odd.

I have to lean in close (there's a lot of blood mucking up the scent), but he smells like he always has. I take that to mean that his soul is still intact. Just to be sure, I lift his mouth to mine and slide my tongue down his throat. Demon tongues are only about half an inch longer than the average human's, but they're much more elastic, something like a chameleon's. I'm suddenly glad for my young master's death; it would have been rather unpleasant to have to have to do this when his gag reflex was still active and his teeth were trying to chew my tongue in half.

It takes a minute, but the tip of my tongue finally brushes against his soul, right next to his still - warm, silent heart. My mouth twitches a little at the contact, firstly because that just proves how soft - hearted my young master is (kinder humans' souls are closer to their hearts, you see. Those with the easiest - bled hearts sometimes have their heart and soul mixed together. That's also why most demons prefer colder, crueler masters. Not many of us have a pallet that can tolerate the rusty - copper sweetness of a heart), and secondly because almost I wish Claude was still alive to watch me devour what is rightfully mine.

Almost.

My tongue wraps around it a few more times, and it dislodges with the muffled sound of ripping paper. Even now it tastes magnificent. I adjust my tongue a little, roll the soul around into a more comfortable, less - likely - to - choke position and swallow i-

Oh!

Okay,_ now_ I understand why Claude was so hellbent on getting this soul for himself.

I don't really know how to describe the taste of a soul to anything that isn't a demon. Souls don't taste the way food does to a human, I assume, but they taste much purer than anything humans or nature have cooked up over the centuries. All of the flavors perfectly in balance. It's poetic, really.

And my young master tastes better than everything I've imagined; Rich and bold, soured by hate and vengeance, spicy with passion and with just a suggestion of darkness. It makes me want more so much that it's maddening, and at the same time I feel like I could never eat again for the rest of eternity and still be satisfied.

My mouth makes a pleased sound. The change in my body is instantly noticeable; that nagging little sting in the pit of my stomach is gone, and I feel stronger, even a little bit faster. Any wounds I've sustained even seem to ache less. I pull my left glove off with my teeth and glance down at my hand to watch as the pentagram smokes out of existence. Good riddance. I thought I'd been rid of that insignia for good...

I roll my neck and shoulders, I flex my back. I draw in a deep breath, and the air tastes sweeter than before. Through my semi - restrained writhing, my knee nudges against my young master's carcass, and I finally stop to wonder:

What am I going to do with _this_?

My first thought is to revive him. My second is to question my first. How strange. We both have what we wanted; revenge and a painful death for him, possibly the best - tasting soul in all of creation for myself, so why am I not dumping his body into the ocean and getting on with my life?

Because I don't want to.

I am surprised at my realization, but I don't try to deny it. I like this life, taxing though it may be. I'm not ready to give it up yet. But how to revive a bled - dry body without a soul?

Like a hypnotist reciting a keyword, I remember an old story I heard a millennium or two ago about a demon who performed a concentration ritual on their already - devoured master, restoring the soul without sacrificing their meal. I'd thought they were crazy then. I think I'm crazy now.

First, I have the issue of his blood supply to attend to. I suppose I could use my own blood, but I have no idea what the affect will be on him, or even if it _will_ have an affect. Oh, well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. I tear a large gash into my palm and press it to his chest. The blood loss makes me feel a little light - headed, but my blood will regenerate within the hour. When that's done, I get to work repairing the actual damage to his body. Repairing a corpse is much more difficult than a living body; unlike the latter, a corpse has no drive to repair itself to be worked with. It doesn't take long though, as his one wound is rather neat. I'm quite proud of my ability to kill so cleanly. Once the wound has lessened into a long, angrily - pink cut, I pull out the needle and thread I always carry (because as the butler of Phantomhive, where would we be if I couldn't keep myself presentable during a fight?), sterilize the needle and make quick work of stitching it shut. I then drag my index finger across one of my canine teeth, and blood that tastes faintly of my young master drips onto my lips. I lick it off and hold said finger over my young master's mouth as a single drop beads at my fingertip, and I start chanting in a language that was dead long before the first villages that would later become the Roman Republic had been settled:

"Soul of Ciel Phantomhive, gather here now. Return to your body and walk amongst the living once more."

The drop falls as if on cue, and his body arches off the floor of the boat with a loud gasp, trying to draw air into his chest that he doesn't know has been repaired. He lies panting for a few seconds, gaping up at me as he struggles to breathe. His eyes roll back and flutter shut. He sighs once as his head hits the wood of the little raft. I button his shirt and jacket (which are going to be hell to wash later), rotate his head so that it is turned upward, fold his hands over his stomach and turn to steer the gondola back to the mainland.

"Just like old times, eh, young master?" I smile.

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><p>Bard, Maylene and Finny run out to meet them as they return home. "Sebastian! Young master!" Finny is thrilled, "Thank goodness you're both home!"<p>

Maylene follows closely at his heels. "We haven't seen either of you in days! We were starting to think something bad ha -"

"Young master?" Bard finally seems to notice the blood on Ciel's jacket and shirt. "Young master? ! Sebastian, what happened to him? !"

"Nothing" Sebastian doesn't stop walking up the steps, "Just a few bad scratches he needs to sleep off."

Maylene watches him nervously. "B - but there's so much blo-"

"There's nothing to worry about" he insists, turning to smile at them, "Now, all of you can go to bed. I'll handle whatever else needs to be done." He turns his back on them before noticing the anxious looks they exchange.

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><p>Ciel doesn't stir as Sebastian carries him up to his bedroom. The latter strips him quickly and redresses him in his night shirt, then lies him down onto his mattress and tucks the blankets around his shoulders. As he leaves the room to tend both his and the other servants' chores, he smirks back at Ciel.<p>

"Welcome back, young master."

He shuts the door behind him.

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><p>Sebastian runs his fingertip over the mantle and rubs the collected dust vexedly. Apparently the staff decided to leave the mansion be while he wasn't around to fix their mistakes. On the one hand, it does make cleaning up <em>so<em> much easier for him. On the other hand, it means they've been shirking their responsibilities. "Well, then, I'll just have to punish them for it" he smiles with dark mirth. "Oh, well," he cracks his knuckles, "I'd best get to work. It wouldn't do to have the young master awaken to a dirty mansion."

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><p>The first thing Ciel notices when he comes to is pain. Well, more like a really persistent ache than true pain, but still, he doesn't like it.<p>

_Sebastian, it's uncomfortable. Get rid of it! Oh, that's right, Sebastian's not here anymore. Am I a demon now? I don't feel very different from how I felt as a human. Maybe I'm becoming a demon. No one ever said how long it would take. I wonder how long it's been already. Has anyone noticed I'm gone? Elizabeth must have. She's probably crying about it._

_Why are my eyes closed?_

He opens his eyes slowly and re - shuts them. Even this dim light hurts them a little bit. He adjusts after a moment and rolls his head back and forth on his pillow. The rest of his body feels like lead.

"Where... Am I? This looks a lot like... My mansion."

This _is_ his mansion.

_But I... I should be... Sebastia-_

"Augh!"

He tries to sit up and the strange soreness in his chest intensifies to actual pain. Out of reflex, his hand rises and touches too roughly against a few tiny, hard somethings that shouldn't be there. He swings his legs over the side of his bed, waits a minute for the spinning in his head to stop, stands slowly, gripping the nearest bedpost until his legs regain their strength. He trudges, huffing, to his mirror and rips his nightshirt - when did he put that on? - open, and blinks confusedly at the line of stitches on his chest.

"What? How did this happen? When was I hurt? _Why_ was I hurt? Wait a minute..."

He leans closer to the mirror and brushes the hair over his right eye to the side.

A normal blue eye gawks back at him.

He lets his hair droop back into his face and steps back, reeling. The floor creeks a little under his foot. He lunges for the bell at his bedside and rings it hysterically.

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><p>Sebastian has just finished closing the cupboard on the last dish when the bell rings. The young master needs him in the master bedroom. Desperately, from the sound of it. "Well, then," he smirks, "I'd better go see what he wants."<p>

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><p>Ciel is still ringing the bell like a crazy person when there is a knock at his door. It's not until then that he realizes that he's terrified to see who might be on the other side. He's not sure what he'll do if it isn't Sebastian. He's not sure what he'll do if it <em>is<em>. He clenches his fist at his side and jerks his chin up. "Enter!" he says with as much force as he is able.

Sebastian smirks behind the door at his master's bravado and lets himself in. The boy's eyes widen just a bit and his lips part. Sebastian almost doesn't see him shiver. "Good evening, young master" he smiles politely, "I hope you slept well."

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><p><em>Sebastian.<em>

_Sebastian is still here, and I'm still alive._

"Why? !" he demands, glaring at the butler. Said butler tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. "'Why?'" he repeats, "Well, that's a rather strange question. As a butler, it's my job to ensure that my master is in optimal health."

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" Ciel storms up to him and grabs his jacket, "Why are you still here? ! Why am I not dead? ! Why didn't you take my soul? !"

"I did" Sebastian is the epitome of calm. Ciel steps away from him in shock. "What? !"

"I did" Sebastian insists. He pulls his glove off with his teeth and raises his unmarked left hand. "And if you don't mind my saying so, young master, you tasted delicious" he beams brightly. Ciel glowers at him. "Y - you're lying!" he accuses tremulously, "How can I still be alive after you devoured my soul? !"

"I performed a concentration ritual on your corpse after the fact" Sebastian explains, "You don't have a real soul anymore, just a small fragment of one that exists at a high enough concentration to function as a whole." He pokes the tip of his finger against Ciel's sternum, and is promptly batted away. He smiles anyhow. "And roughly a gallon and a quart of blood to replace what you'd lost, courtesy of myself."

"You sound like you think I'm grateful" Ciel turns from him and walks back over to his bed. He stiffens for a moment, and then turns on Sebastian. "Why did you bother to bring me back at all? !"

Sebastian lifts his bent finger thoughtfully to his lips. "You know, someone else once asked me a question a lot like that" he says vaguely. "What?" Ciel looks at him distrustfully.

"When I was being held in the Tower of London, our old friend Angela decided to drop in and amuse herself by beating me senseless. She tried to tempt me with stories about how the apocalypse would eventually come, and how there would be thousands of souls, all mine for the taking. I admit it was a very tempting proposition at the time. You know, in retrospect, that beating may have been to drive home the point that I was starving."

Ciel is bored. "Is there a point you're going to get to any time soon?"

Sebastian smiles. "She told me that if I abandoned you permanently and joined her, I could have all the souls I wanted when the time came."

"And?"

"And I turned her down." Sebastian kneels so that he is eye - level with Ciel and smiles at him. "I told her I didn't need a thousand souls." He pokes him in the chest again. "I only needed yours."

Ciel slaps his hand off again, and Sebastian only smiles wider. "Well, you got what you wanted." Ciel turns away from him again and walks over to his window, holding onto his upper arms. "We both did." He strokes his thumb out of habit. "Do you know why it was so easy for me to barter away my soul?" He probably does. "It was because I didn't want it. I didn't even believe in souls anymore. What being with a soul could do _that _to a child?" He clenches his fist. "I lived for revenge because I had nothing else to live for. Why bother staying alive if you have nothing to work towards?"

Sebastian thinks for a minute. "There's your fiancèe" he points out, "And Tanaka, and the rest of the staff. I think your aunt Francis may care about you in some form or another." He walks up to Ciel's back. "The Funtom company is still thriving after two years." He puts his hand on Ciel's shoulder. The latter brushes him off, and his eyebrows knit together. "And why do you keep slapping my hand away?"

"You need to ask?" he answers. Sebastian blinks in surprise, then frowns, throws himself to his knees and squashes Ciel against his chest. "Young master, I'm insulted!" he says loudly. Ciel strains unsuccessfully against his arms. Sebastian turns his face toward his master, forcing his chin over the boy's shoulder. "You really think that just because we don't have a contract anymore I'm going to jump at the chance to attack you?"

"Get _off_!" Ciel demands, "You're crushing me!"

"Sorry." He loosens his hold considerably, but doesn't let go. "And I suppose I can't really blame you for being paranoid, either." He smiles thinly at him. "There's no guarantee that a dog won't bite the hand that feeds it once let off the leash."

"Let go of me, _demon_" Ciel glares at him, and he backs off a few steps. Ciel smooths his nightshirt not - really - necessarily. "And that still doesn't explain why you didn't just let me die" he continues without looking at Sebastian. He'd been prepared to die after Ash had been killed, and in Alois Trancy's maze. He'd expected it, he'd even wanted it. But now the the game has ended, and the pawn that can get across the whole board in one move is out of his control.

He doesn't know what to do.

"Ahem!" the butler clears his throat. Ciel turns toward him. He's a little thrown by what he sees: Sebastian down on one knee with his hand over his heart, that servile position that he's seen too many times to possibly count. "If the young master will allow it," he recites, "I'd like to stay by your side a little longer."

Ciel lowers his eyebrows at him in confusion. "You want to form another contract?" he guesses. Sebastian laughs derisively and looks up at him. "Why would I want _that_?" he cocks an eyebrow at him, "You have no soul to give in the end."

"So you just want to serve the Phantomhives forever?" Ciel asks, knowing full well that that's the last thing on his mind. "Of course not" Sebastian stands. He walks to Ciel's side and looks out the window with him, "Just a few more decades, until you're old and gray and I've had my fun." He raises an eyebrow and smirks at the young earl. He's tempted to poke at the young earl's hair color.

"You have another reason for doing this" Ciel accuses. "Too true, young master" he smiles at him, "I like this life, believe it or not. Yes, it's rather annoying always having to clean up after those idiot servants of yours and having to rescue _you_ every other week," - Ciel scowls - "But it gives me something to _do_ with my time. You'd be surprised at how boring having nothing to do all day but lie around or feed can become. Even fighting starts to lose its appeal after a while."

"You expect me to trust you?" Ciel narrows his eyes at him. "I haven't killed you yet, have I?" Sebastian smirks, "And whether or not you want to admit it, young master, you need me." Ciel opens his mouth to protest. Sebastian shuts him up by pressing his finger to the boy's lips. "We both know I'm the only one around here that can actually get anything done. And it may just be that I've gotten used to having to worry about you, but I'm not in love with the idea of leaving it to chance which of those three will kill you first; Will Bard's cooking poison you, or will you more likely starve to death first? Or perhaps Maylene will leave something lying around for you to trip on and break your neck." He pulls his finger away from Ciel's mouth and smiles again. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me until you consent to hiring at least one other capable hand."

He stands and pretends to be interested in the night sky for a moment. "It's gotten quite late" he remarks, checking his pocket watch. He tucks it back into his pocket and gestures to Ciel's bed. "You should sleep now, young master. You have a very busy day scheduled for tomorrow."

Ciel frowns at Sebastian, but none the less climbs into bed and allows him to tuck the sheets around him. The butler takes the candelabra from the nightstand. "Rest well, young master" Sebastian bows and turns to leave. Ciel calls for him when his hand is on the doorknob.

"Sebastian."

"Hmm?"

Ciel hunches his shoulders a little bit. "Stay here until I fall asleep."

Sebastian can't help but to poke some fun at the little crack in his master's facade. "Are you expecting me to run off during the night?" he smirks, "I told you I'm here because I want to be, didn't I?"

"I gave you an order!" Ciel glares over his shoulder at him, then lays his head back down on his pillow. "Contract or no contract, my orders are absolute."

Sebastian smiles and dips his head. "Understood." He strides back over to Ciel's bed and kneels by his head. "As promised, young master," he says softly, "I will always be by your side, no matter where that may be."

Ciel sighs very quietly.

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><p>True to his word, Sebastian waits for Ciel to fall asleep before seeing himself out. He glances once down the hall to the left, then to the right. He smiles and turns down the right hallway.<p>

"It's good to be home."

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><p><strong>AN:** Well, it took me a while to realize it, but I did **_NOT_** like how Kuroshitsuji ended! I could've cared less about Ciel becoming a demon, but if Sebastian was was supposed to eat Ciel's soul first and _then_ be miserable for the rest of eternity! 'Cause we all know he'd be lonely without his bocchan.

Also, I am a firm believer in that if Sebastian _had_ been given the choice to either stay with Ciel or leave, he would've at least considered it, if not stayed. I personally think he would've stayed, but that could just be the fangirl thinking.


End file.
